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Three Months, Three Things Unsaid

writing challenge: Jan 6, 2018

Prompt: Write 3 things he could never tell her.

She hasn’t talked to me in three months. Three. This is the longest I’ve gone without hearing from her. She said she’d never speak to me again. I didn’t believe her. But now, I’m starting to think she may have meant it.

Three months. Three. I haven’t tried to talk to her. She said “no more.” I respected that. I always have. She’s always come back when she was ready. I never told her, but I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

Three months. Three months of silence. I almost want to break it, but I promised I wouldn’t. If nothing else, I keep my promises. It’s been too long. I can’t break it now- but three whole months? I’m lonely without her. I’m lonely every time she leaves. I’ve never told her before, but I miss her when she’s gone.

It’s been three months. I’ve now gone three months without her. I never thought she would really go. I’m starting to think I should do something to win her back. I never realized how much I depend on her. I never thought about it. Maybe that’s what she meant when she said that she felt like I take her for granted. I did. I’m sorry now. I get it now. I never thought about it before, and I never told her before, but I love her- but now it may be too late. She’s been gone for three months.

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Seasons

writing challenge: Jan 5, 2018

prompt: write a myth that explains the seasons

There was once a time before any winter. Before there was cold, or frost or snow, there was a time when the world lay in eternal summer. Vivid green leaves danced merrily on trees, harvests were always bountiful, and animals were always plump and fertile. This summer-world was beautiful and rich, and the people who inhabited it were always happy and prosperous- but like all things- this world came to an end. The people grew lazy without work, and ignorant without ingenuity. They grew prideful without the humility of labor, and ungrateful for the bounty they so freely received. Seeing this, The Sun- provider of all things- talked to his wife The Moon- surveyor of all things- and together they created a plan to teach their children of work, ingenuity, labor, and thanks. Together, the Sun and the Moon tilted the Earth and set it spinning to create the Seasons.

 

At first humanity struggled. When the days grew shorter and colder they were afraid. Leaves and fruit began to fall from trees- from green to brown, overnight, without warning. Animals that were always abundant and fat began to migrate away from the cold, leaving humans to hunt what was once easily. If it wasn’t for the loving Guidance of the Sun, Moon, and Stars they would have all perished. Slowly, humanity began to learn the way of reaping and sowing, work and leisure, and they were happier than they were before, for now they knew what it was to lack. Now they knew what it was to earn what they received. Seeing their children so industrious and humbled, the Sun and the Moon wished to reward them. So now, instead of green and brown- the leaves on the trees now cycle- symbolizing the seasons that so benefited humanity. In Summer the leaves would be as green as they were in the Summer-days, displaying how things were. In Autumn the leaves would display a kaleidoscope of beautiful colors- symbolizing the vibrancy of humanity as it became. In Winter the leaves would fall and die- symbolizing the way death that could, and would occur without labor and love, and in Spring the budding blossoms and leaves symbolized the promise of the Sun and Moon to always provide for their children.

 

Stars

writing challenge: Jan 4, 2018

Prompt: Write a poem or a story that answers the question “why do you fear the stars?”

I never understood the fascination others had with the night sky.

So dark and empty but for the small lights-

They mockingly twinkle, offering no visibility.

I look up at the darkness with fear-

Those lights, those stars, twinkling silently to others-

They whisper to me.

“come” they say “come to us”.

I shiver in the cool night air-

Not from the wind-

But from the chilling whispers I hear.

“come” they say “follow us”.

I fear the stars,

Because they talk to me-

And I don’t know why.

 

Fear

writing challenge: Jan 3, 2018

Prompt: What if your phobias are how you died in a past life?

My lungs toil for air that will not come. I desperately claw at my face, my throat, my chest- willing myself to carve a hole for precious air to enter. The few short minutes before I pass-out feel like hours. I choke, I kick, I am still.

I fear death by suffocation more than I fear the fire’s flame, the knife’s cut, or the gun’s bullet. I fear deep water’s traitorous waves, plastic’s unforgiving hold, and the rope’s unrelenting coils. I cannot help but feel that lack of air is how I will die- or perhaps it is how I have died in the past. My fear of loss is why I cherish every deep breath I take.

A Letter to My First Love

Writing Challenge: Jan 2, 2018

Prompt: Write something you wish you could say to your ex.

Dear J,

Do you remember when we kissed for the first time? That was the first kiss I ever had. You were my first love and my first heartbreak. We were so young and stupid, but so sure we knew what we were doing. I learned so much with you. Thank you for being my friend before, during, and after our romance. Thank you for being honest and mature as we grew older. Thank you for helping me learn what I want and need in a relationship. I don’t love you anymore. Our romance is now just a pleasant memory. I no longer think about the “what if’s”, but instead just smile remembering how it was.

Ever your friend, A

___________________.

Time-Straddled New Years

Writing Challenge: Jan 1, 2018

Prompt: Write about New Years of 2017 and 2018

*I also wrote a long post about this New Years already if you care for further details about that night*

A plain set of buildings in the middle of the desert.

A gas station, bar, and casino wrapped into one.

This isn’t a place I would usually think to bring in the new year.

There is something special about this spot.

Something you wouldn’t guess by looking.

Out here- in the middle of nowhere- there is a line.

A state line and a time zone-

And this motel, gas station, bar and casino sit straddle this invisible boundary.

From the rooms to the bar is a 30 second trek,

But you will gain or lose an hour either direction.

This anomaly makes this place locally-famous.

From miles around (everything is miles away)-

People will come to this isolated business

To bring in the New Year twice in one night.

Even in a bar full of smoke, booze, and rough necks-

There is something romantic

About having two chances to get the New Year started right.

 

Writing Challenge 2018

Last year, the year of 2017, I started a writing challenge. To be honest, I was terrible. I didn’t write daily and would then play “catch-up” to get back on track, and I only posted about a third of what I wrote.

This year, I am going to try to do better. Now that I have completed 2017’s writing challenge, and posted all that I care to share with that (several of the entries being down-right embarrassing in quality) I am going in for another round in 2018.

Once again, I cannot promise that my writing will be of any great quality, but I am posting on a lag (a week or so behind) so that I can revise, edit, or entirely re-write any pieces I feel are just too terrible to share. I cannot bring myself to subject you to anything less than “okay”.

I want to thank all of you for your support. Having an audience of any size or caliber is bolstering to any writer, and I want you all to know just how much your views and likes mean to me. You all keep me going.

Thank you all- and here we go!

Holiday Surprise

Writing Challenge: Dec 26, 2017

Prompt: Review your day, week, or month in a poem

Day Chosen- Dec 16

He tells me he won’t make it.

I had been singing “Home for Christmas” for days,

And he will be-

Home for Christmas, that is-

Just not for my birthday.

“I tried” he says, and I understand.

I knew it might not happen, so I tell him I love him.

“I’m moving anyway.” I reply.

“I’d be too busy to really see you.”

He lied.

Flying out the night before-

He surprised me the morning I turned 24.

He helped me move my bed and bookshelves.

He met my new friends at my birthday dinner

And held me that night.

I hum “Home for Christmas” as I stroke his hair.

March 29

writing challenge: Dec 22, 2017

Prompt: Write about the date of an anniversary

March 29 was the day you disappeared. Earlier that day I had texted you, elated by the news that I had just bought a plane ticket to see the boy that you always said was “the one” for me. Your last words to me were: “That’s fucking awesome!” I had no idea that in a few short hours, the time between our conversation and me going to work, that you would be gone from me forever. Every March 29, just days after my anniversary with that same boy, I wear the bracelet you gave to me and I think of you.

Climb Mountains

writing challenge: Dec 18, 2017

Prompt: Find a motivational poster online and write something inspired by it.

poster: Climb mountains not so the world can see you, but so you can see the world.

In the Valley everyone seems to be enchanted by Mt. Timpanogos. It is a lumbering form with several well-known trails and some old local myth about the “Sleeping Princess” and the “Heart of Timp”, but this is not the mountain that I think best distinguishes the spacious vale. Kitty-corner to Timp, a thinner, shorter crag guts out from the Rockies. The steep, smooth incline is graceful in comparison it it’s rough neighbors. It’s general shape vaguely looks like Pride Rock from every 90’s kid favorite movie- The Lion King. This feature, called Squaw Peak has an ugly, racist name, left over form an ugly, racist past- but it’s beautiful visage contrasts it’s nomenclatural   blight. The locally famous Squaw Peak trail it short, but steep and challenging.

Up the thin, winding path you will wind- passing trees, streams, and small meadows all the while. Just when you feel you can go no further- your legs and lungs burning from hard work in the thin atmosphere- you will reach the most astounding view. The valley- no, the world- lay beneath your feet. Eagles, hawks and seagulls soar under your gaze. The blue lake shines like an aquamarine jewel in the sun embedded in the soft brown and green velvet of Earth. Tiny toy houses and churches dot the valley like gingerbread towns. You will never feel more large or small, more powerful and insignificant as you will in that moment- overlooking the world at your feet and the infinite robin-egg sky above you.